Where Do We Start?
by trizliv2595
Summary: First chapter from the short preview, About Monsters and Shooting Stars. This is the beginning of the story, (no title so I am accepting names for the story, comment below). The story revolves around Roger, the son of a Greek god and Bo, a mortal human girl who knows about his secret. They work together to know about his past and their future.
1. Where Do We Start?

Bo's Side

Oh boy, where do we start? First of all, both of us were completely different people; he was an outcast while I was considered a semi-well known person. He was a bench-warmer for the football team and rarely saw the other side of the field during a game. I, on the other hand, hanged out with my fellow reporters for the school and saw most of the field in one game than he did in one season. Knowing every walks of life there is to know at the school; from the guys and girls with their game faces on to the fine art lovers to the smart people and the by passers, I was a well-rounded person.

You can't really consider him to be a by passer or a smart person. He was smart, but not a geek. He struggled here and there, but he felt he didn't quite fit in. I felt placed on a pedestal and everyone was waiting for my next move, something I was very afraid of. Question is, how does a semi-well known reporter and a football nobody meet? It so happens we were together in the right place at the wrong time. There's a secret we both share though the answers aren't clear.

It so happened we were taking a field trip through the woods. For some reason, I was paying real close attention to him. Was it the fact he dressed to impress without even trying? Was it how his brown hair and green brown eyes seemed to fit with his green sweater, dark blue straight legged jeans, and brown/black boots and being in the forest, he seemed to fit right in? Or was it just the fact that he and I were stuck to be partners? Yup, I think that's why. Considering the fact everyone had their friends to be partners with and even though everyone knew me, I was not the most popular girl in school, not even by a long shot. So I sort of waited until everyone picked their partner and got settled with him. I didn't mind. I don't know if he did.

Roger's Side

Being an outcast isn't easy, or fun. And when we got to our destination and had to pick a partner for our field trip, I felt even more so. But when she walked over to me, I don't know how I felt but it sort of felt that I finally fit in. But then I realized that everyone else was taken, I felt as if I was second best or the last kid to get picked on. She smiled that smile everyone talked about; showing her pretty white teeth, her full pink lips spread over and under her teeth. Boy was she pretty. Her dark eyes, dark hair, mildly tanned complexion, her white smile. She was shorter than me but none the less, she was cute. But why did she pick me? Everyone judge me for being different. I usually kept to myself and no one bothered to talk to me even though I am on the football team. And she was popular. I guess she needed someone smart to copy off from, I don't know. I usually am paired up with people like that.

Bo's side

Alright, I'll admit it, he's pretty cute. He wasn't exactly the number one hot guy at school but he was really cute. But today he looked exceptionally cute, I don't even know why. But just standing there smiling isn't going to get me anywhere. So why not start the conversation? Everyone says I have initiative and that's why I am a great reporter since I am the first to jump into action.

"Hi", I politely greeted him.

"H…hi me?" he asked, stuttering over his words.

"Yeah", I smiled as he seemed star-struck or something. "I'm Bo, what's your name?" I asked him.

"Um, hi, my name is…uh Roger", he answered, stammering.

"Nice to meet you, Roger", I replied still smiling at him.

"If you picked me to be your partner because you wanted to copy off me and slack off, you picked the wrong guy", he answered. I stood wide-eyed.

"Uh, no I didn't pick you because I wanted to slack off", I answered, looking at him in shock. My face turned red and looked away. _So much for being nice._

Roger's Side

Her face grew red but I bet mine was going red and blue. _Great, just great. Why the heck did you say that out loud?! She was trying to be nice and you blow her off! Smooth man, smooth! Then you wonder why no one hangs out with you!_ If having the biggest mouth in the world was a sport, I would win a gold medal hands down. I can't believe I said that.

"Hey Bo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I've always gotten stuck with the people who slack off and get my answers. I just thought that would be you", I tried to explain. She looked at me.

"So you judge me before you get to know me?", she answered in a very as-a-matter-of-the-fact voice, turning her head away from me. _Great, strike two._

"No, that's not what I meant", I stuttered. _Oh God, you're making it worse!_ "I mean…you know…no one really picks on me for anything but then you come to me…and my first thought was your pretty smile and…"

"Wait, you think my smile is pretty?" she interrupted me, looking at me, cocking one eyebrow up.

_OH NO! Now you really have done it!_ "Yeah, I mean, everyone has a pretty smile but yours is exceptionally pretty", I blabbered on. I could feel my cheeks turn red and I felt sick to my stomach.

"If you are trying to make up for what you said, it's not going to work. But if you are saying it because it's the truth, then I'll accept it as a compliment", she answered, smiling. _Oh man, that smile is to die for! She's really pretty!_

"It is the truth", I answered rather quickly, "but it's also to make up for what I said. I didn't mean it."

"Well, I can't really stay mad at you since we just met, so I'll forgive you", she answered.

"Can we start over and pretend this didn't happen?" I asked her, outstretching my hand to her.

She paused and looked at my hand. _She's going to say no, I can tell._

Bo's Side

_Ok, maybe he didn't mean it; I can't really stay mad at him since I just met him. And he's offering to start over again. It would be very bad of me to not forgive him and start over. What do I have to lose? Besides, he's shy and alone. Does he have any friends? He sure doesn't seem to act as if he does._

Looking at his outstretched hand, I noticed how perfectly smooth they were._ Oh great, now you're checking him out? Focus, Bo._

"Sure, we can start again", I answered, taking my hand and placing it over his. The second I did so, there was an electric shock running from my palm to arm to my brain. We jumped but our hands didn't seem to release each other.

"Ouch", I said, after my hand let go off his. I looked at my hand and it seemed normal but I felt it burning.

Roger's Side

The moment she placed her hand over mine, a shot of heat and coldness spread from the palm of my hand and raced through my arm to my brain. It hurt a lot. When we finally released hands, I held my hand in the other and cradled it. I looked at it and it seemed untouched and unaffected by the impact of heat. Lifting my view to look at Bo, her hand was cradled in her other hand and she blew on it, as if to die down the flames that were invisible. She looked at me and there was a shocked face staring at me. _Well buddy, you are out of strikes so that means you are out! Yay…_


	2. Only Seniors at School

**Hello fellow fanfictioners! I know I should be working on Return to Pandora but this is the second chapter of About Monsters and Shooting Stars. Inspiration hit! Please enjoy the second chapter of this new story. There is no name to it yet but I'll accept title suggestions. Thank you and enjoy.**

_**The Only Senior of the Day**_

**Bo **

The sound of a tapping foot was all that was heard apart from my music. There was overcast with a few bald spots where the sun's rays penetrated the sky. With my arms folded over my chest, both ear-buds in my ear, my music playing at the highest setting my ears could handle, I tapped my foot "patiently". Dave would be yelling at me for listening to rock music so loud. He'd be mad at me for even listening to rock. My backpack was growing heavy over my shoulders and back but I refused to take it off, knowing that my bus would be here any minute. My truck's battery had died last night so I had to ride my bus.

_'Why do I even have to go to school today? None of my friends would be going' _It's senior skip day and instead of sleeping in or something, I had to get my lazy butt out of my bed, shower, get dressed and wait what seems an eternity for my bus driver to pick us up and drive us to school. '_Ugh, thank you TV for advising to my step dad's decisions over senior year…_' Ever since Dave moved in with us after he married my mom, he had controlled every move I make. First of all, he didn't let me go to prom and he definitely didn't let me do senior skip day. Mom had no say in whether or not I could go to prom since she was out to see her sister across town that was having a baby the day of prom and wanted her only sister to go be with her.

_"A whole day where you are not supervised by an administrator and God only knows what happens to people like your crazy friends your little brother tells us you hang out with", Dave answered when I gave him the explanation of senior skip day and what my friends and I have had planned to do on that day. I leaned my head on my hand, elbows on the kitchen table, and I hunched my back. 'Thank you Dave for ruining my senior year. Thank you very much, little bro for giving Dave the spill on my so called "crazy" friends from school.' _Don't get me wrong, my friends are crazy but not over the top, complete lunatics. We make each other laugh and what not but none of them do things we aren't supposed to. None of us smoke, drink, or do drugs, we just happen to know how to have a good time.

So here I was, the only senior at my bus stop heading to school, not knowing what the day has planned for me. Of course, Kevin was next to me, playing with his iPhone and listening to his music. After another eternity of tapping my foot and listening to music, my bus arrived. Climbing up, I took an empty seat in the front of the bus, leaning deeper into the cushion. _'Thank you, Shinedown for keeping me company on this day of total isolation.'_

I viewed the neighborhood where I have inhabited in for most of my life pass by my window of the bus, my forehead pressed against the glass, letting my mind drift. _'Who's going to be at school today anyway from my graduating class? Uh, me… This is going to be one long day…'_

The bus ride to school was shorter than I thought. Reaching the school, the lower classmen walked to their first period class, all talking or texting, sending messages or tweets, listening to music, but none of them paid attention to the one senior who walked the halls of the school.

Reaching my first period class, I sat in my seat and waited to see who else would show up. The students who did show up from my class were the guys and girls who had a game or a competition after school and had to be there or people who needed hours in order to graduate. I still had my headphones on when my favorite song, 'Waiting for Superman' by Daughtry started to play. I always smiled when that song played, regardless in what mood I was in.

I leaned back on the leather business chairs, listened to the song that turned my frown upside-down. My English class didn't have the typical desks, the plastic metal ones. Instead we had the business leather chairs, which my teacher calls them, 'author's seats', since we basically spent most of the year writing journal entries, poems, short stories, etc. and they were so much nicer than the normal ones. I caught myself mouthing the words to the song. I reached down and got my sketch pad and began fiddling with my pencils to create something on the page.

**Roger **

The room was almost empty when I walked in, apart from me and my teacher and a few students. But then, seeing one of the chairs move, I saw a certain dark haired bobbing their head back and forth. I then realized it was Bo. She didn't look up when I stood behind her. Then I saw why, she was busy sketching and listening to music. Taking the seat next to her, she started to sing. And she was smiling, that beautiful smile she gave me the other day when she first spoke to me. I held my breath, afraid to interrupt her singing. I wanted to hear her voice, it was so beautiful and in tuned. Then I realized what song it was and began tapping my fingers on the table, regretting it a second later. Only then she looked up and shock was written all over her face. Her face turned bright red, looking down; she got her things together and put them away, removing her earphones, sitting in a rather stiff manner in her seat.

"Wait Bo, I'm sorry I didn't mean to frighten you. I…I couldn't help but see your drawing. They're really good, at least what I saw", I mumbled. Ever since that incident of the field trip, I've tried to avoid her, afraid she would judge me as a freak. Now that I think about it, I haven't apologized for what happened on the field trip, even though it was a few days ago.

"Bo, please listen. I'm sorry about what happened at the field trip. I had no idea what that was." For the first time since I started talking to Bo, or anyone in that matter, I didn't mumble or stumble over my words. She looked at me and breathed in deep. Looking down again, she leaned back in her seat, more relaxed and folded her arms over her chest and looked at me again.

"It's ok, no blood, no foul", she answered, with a lopsided smiling appearing on her lips.

"So, we're still good?" I asked her, cocking one eyebrow down.

"Yeah, we're still good", she answered, flashing her teeth as she smiled. The way she smiles seems as if there was peace and nothing is wrong with the world. I tried my best to smile but I guess it just looked awkward.

"So, do you sing?" I asked her. She looked at me and tilted her head down.

"No, I… I just…love this song so much and I started mouthing, but then…you know, I started singing without me knowing it", her cheeks flushed red, trying to hide a smile. Her hand flew to her cheek and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Her bangs were then swept across her forehead, revealing her beautiful eyebrows, dark and neat. Her eyes were outlined with black eyelashes that didn't seem to be thick or full.

"Hey, its fine, you sing amazing. I would have never guessed you also had a pretty singing voice to go with the smile you carry."

"Well, thank you. But flattery isn't going to get you anywhere", she commented and smiled again. Now it was my turn to blush and I looked down.

"So what do you do for fun?" she asked me, still leaning back.

"Huh?" I asked her, a bit thrown back from her curiosity. "Oh, I…uh, um" I cleared my throat. "I like to play football but that's a no brainer, not that you are a no brainer it's just an obvious thing…well maybe not that obvious since I hardly play football here at school…but you know it is almost obvious…" My brain rambled on and on. _'Oh, great here we go again…'_ I bit me lip, chewing on it.

**Bo**

"You're not very social are you?" I asked him. His face turned redder than it already was. I felt bad though. _'Man, I'm being so mean to him.'_

"I'm, yeah...I'm r-rather shy", he answered. His hands and arms were over the table. He looked down and didn't see me place my hands over his. He looked up and our eyes met. I smiled and he gave me a lopsided grin. On rare occasion, I would see him smirk but the one smile he showed to me right now was my favorite, which I'll admit it true to myself.

"It's ok to be a bit shy but don't you have any friends that you can talk to?" I asked him, he looked down again and shook his head. My grin vanished and instead a sentimental line grew on my lips.

**Roger**

"Hey, don't look sad. Its fine, I've been this way since I could remember but my mom always told me to look for the sunshine in a dark day", I answered. Her small hands were still over mine. She smiled again and her face lightened up immediately. I looked at our hands and I hadn't realized it until now, we didn't have the same incident from the field trip but I felt something. I felt, warmth and maybe even butterflies in my stomach. Her hands over mine made me feel happy and not alone.

"So, no friends except for me, you have your mom and you play football, what else do you have physically out of your body?" she asked. _'Did she say 'no friends except for me?' I didn't know she was my friend.'_

"Wait, what?" I asked her, looking at her in a confused expression. "Did you say you're my friend?"

"Well, unless you think I'm not good enough to be your friend and you don't want to be seen with a reporter, I guess I'm not", she answered with the most honest tone ever, removing her hands from mine and crossing her arms.

"No, no, that's not what I meant… I, I would love to have you as a friend", I answered with the biggest grin on my face. She also smiled but then broke a smirk. I looked at her in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Oh my, gosh…look at your hands! I…oh my, gosh…I'm sorry", she answered, giggling and holding her mouth. My view landed on my hands and saw black smudges over them.

"What…what is this?" I asked her, using my thumb to get rid of the black smudges.

"I'm so sorry, that's charcoal pencil residue! I was shading with my fingers and I placed my hands over yours so…" she answered after she composed herself and her face went white. I glanced back at her and cracked a smile. She removed her hands from her mouth and looked at her fingers. She smirked again and let a giggle loose. I saw more black smudges on her cheeks and over her lips.

"You have some…um…pencil residue…on your…face" I broke in a giggle as well. She reached in her pocket and got her phone and used it as a mirror. She reached down and got some hand sanitizer and a paper towel and removed what she could.

"Better?" she asked, one of her eyebrows cocked up and the other down. I took the towel from her hands and gently wiped her face with the sanitizer on the paper towel, holding her face by her jaw gently and wiping the ebony markings from her face with the other.

"Better", I answered when I was finished.

She used more gel on her hand to rub the black from them and she handed a squirt of the gel on my hands. We looked at each other and smiled.

"What else do you do for fun?" she asked.

"I…, I play the guitar and do covers of songs", I answered, running a hand over my hair.

"You play the guitar?" she questioned with the most interested tone. _'Was she really interested in that?' _I nodded. "That's awesome!" she replied with a huge smile on her lips. I looked at her in a puzzled manner.

"I'm not that good", I replied, my view going down again.

"Hey, I bet you're better than me when it comes to play the guitar", she replied as she placed her hand under my chin to lift my gaze up. "I can't even play one song to save my life."

"But you're better than me in life. You're popular, you have a lot of friends, everyone knows you as the reporter who takes initiative and has the best smile in the world. You should be proud of yourself for being so high up the popularity status", I barked at her. Her hand moved away from my jaw. "You are pretty, smart, beautiful, own the best smile, have a promising future as a reporter and everyone knows you as Bo the reporter from school…"

"But no one knows me as Just Bo. All those things are only skin deep. They are visible to the eye but no one knows I draw or sing, apart from you. Not even the closest friends I hang out with know that", she answered in a calm manner, even though I snapped at her. "Sometimes I would like to know if people would still notice me if I was Just Bo, not Bo the smiling reporter. And if they don't, I would know who would stand by me when I need help."

Hearing her speak like that and about her position in life made me realized something. _'What if she's broken? What if she only smiles to make people think she is happy?' _I placed my hand over hers on the table and gently made lines running across her hand.

**Bo**

_'No one knows how scared I am to fall from my pedestal they placed me. Not even Michelle knows and she has known me forever. Things changed when Dad left.' _I started to fight the tears that threatened to fall. I blinked multiple times, trying to get the sensation away but I failed. One tear sneaked down and trickled over my cheek. Using my other hand, I wiped it away but more followed. _'I'm stronger than this. I shouldn't cry. I can't cry…'_

I then felt a hand run across my cheek but it wasn't mine. I looked at Roger and he wiped the tears away. It felt a bit awkward at first but at the same time, it felt right. I lifted one corner of my mouth and managed to smile.

For the rest of the period, we talked, laughed, and listened to music. Then, a minute before the bell rang, the lights went out and the principal's voice was heard over the intercom to let us know we would be stuck in the room we were in due to bad weather. I looked at Roger and he looked at me, both smiling at one another. We sat in our seats and continued to listen to each other's music, regardless how obvious or weird it was. He has a really good taste in music and almost every song he had on his phone I have heard and liked.

I learned a lot about his life. He lived with his mom who played the role of a father and mother at the same time but still managed to wrap her son in a tight hug, regardless of his height and how tired she was. He has a wolf/dog hybrid he namesake after the original Balto because he loves the story. He is an only child and works at a local coffee shop that his aunt and uncle own, singing and playing the guitar to help his mom pay the bills and buy groceries. Might I say their teas are amazing, especially their "Golden Sunrise" tea, my personal favorite that includes real peach and strawberry juices, topped with fresh peaches and strawberry pieces. I've never been inside the store but I had always ordered it when my friends went and offered me something. He doesn't know who his dad is but him mom says he is not dead. He loves rock and classic rock and alternative and country; most of the bands he loved were my favorite. He has always been alone due to people not seeing him as a person but as a freak. He has white patches of hair that contrasted against his dark brown hair and his size always gives him away as a target. He is not big as in wide wise but tall and strong. He asked me why I picked him on the field trip and I answered with the truth. When he told me about his life, I felt as if he was a completely different person, not the same Roger I met the field trip or I see at school and I liked him this way. He seemed more relaxed and happy. There was a glow in his eyes when he spoke and a curious look when I asked him questions.

**Roger**

I learned a few things about Bo that I would never imagine from her. She wore a mask everyday of her face with a smile, regardless of her mood. She was an only child from her biological parents and but has a little step-brother who is a freshman. Her step-dad, which she accidentally slipped his first name instead of his formal name at home, didn't like her one bit. She loved to draw and was a reporter because she wanted to try something different. She lost her father when she was a 7th grader and misses him a lot. Her mom is the only person apart from her who sees the flaws of her step-dad but can't leave him since they married through the church, so she puts up with him. She owns a pick-up truck that her dad and her fixed up over the summer before he left and she drives it to school though Dave, her step-dad, offered to buy her a car of the latest model only to get on her mom's good side. She refused since she would never trade the fruit of her father and her labor for anything in the world. She also owns an Australian Shepherd/Husky mix named Monet but goes by Mo, named after the famous painter, Oscar-Claude Monet. She loves music, especially country and rock from the 80s and 90s and alternative rock, and has a job as a child care provider at a daycare center near the school. I loved the way her eyes lit up when she told me her reasons to things, even though some of them were backed up with her being naïve to a fault but that's what makes her unique and her.

"So you're step-dad wants you to be a reporter like him?" I asked her, as she reached in her bag again and pulled out a granola bar. She dug her fingers in to get one and handed me the package. I took it and I watched her break hers in smaller bite size pieces.

"Yeah, his only reason to why I should be one is that they earn a lot of money. As him being one of the best reporters, he knows all the ins and outs of being rich and living the high life. He could help me get a job in the same news channel he works in", she answered, taking a bite from her already bite size granola. "But that doesn't mean I want to continue living that life, living the supposedly good life. He says that getting a high paying job will allow me to continue living a life I'm used to living since he moved in. But truth is I am not used to it. I wasn't raised to live that life, I grew up in a middle class home and I liked it." I nodded as I chewed my piece in as much silence as you could make while chewing a hard biscuit.

"He doesn't understand I don't belong in the broadcasting field. I think I belong in the fine arts field. I love to draw and see the beauty of things. One of the benefits of being naïve", she answered, her smile sketched on her lips. Just then, the whole building shook from the thunder that roared through the sky. Her face stood still in fear for a moment. But then the lights turned back on, the few other students that were in the class groaned and got their stuff. I helped her clean up the area we were in and walked out the room with her. As we walked to our next class, people stared at us. _'Well who wouldn't stare at you? You are a football nobody while she is a reporter somebody. She is really beautiful and you are a freak. Everyone is wondering why she is hanging out with you.'_ But none the less, we walked beside each other and reached our second class, history. We hardly ever noticed that we had almost the same schedule only while I took football as an elective, she had journalism.

**Bo**

It was hard to believe that we were the only few seniors in high school whose parents made them go to school. His mom wanted him to go so he could be ahead of everyone and my reason was Dave being "overprotected" of me when in reality, he just wanted me to suffer. _'This is what you call suffering? I was having a great time with Roger.' _Walking into our history class, the teacher was sitting at his desk and was reading a book. We sat in the farthest desk from the door and continued to talk. In the few hours we spent talking; it felt as if he knew who I was, the ins and outs of me, almost as if he has known me forever.

He watched me sketch and continued to listen to music all through the day. We reached lunch and both decided to go to the nearby shopping center in his truck. He was a bit taken back at the interested I had in his blue and black '84 Chevy pickup, which I was proud to show and he drove us to the building. There, we agreed on eat at his aunt and uncle's coffee shop. The front doors of the shop were built from the deepest brown wood I've ever seen and each door was divided into 6 \glass panes. The windows on the side of the building were big and divided into four, also made out of same wood as the doors. On both sides of the door, there was a flower bed with beautiful lavenders, peonies, roses, and forget-me-nots, sprouting from the earth; there was even a magnolia tree with a few buds just beginning to bloom. I looked up and there was a sign that read in big bold black letters, _Coffee Lounge._

**Roger**

When she walked into the shop, her eyes were bewildered. The shop was as beautiful as ever. White, powder blue, light green, ivory, latte brown, and lilac purple paper lanterns suspended from the ceiling with cords of small white lights twisting around the wire. Tables were lit with three small homemade candle jars, illuminating and flickering shadows across the table top. The wooden supports from the ceiling gave the place an even more rustic look. The fireplace was constructed out of granite slab. The chimney, which was usually lit, glowed soft with embers highlighting the grains of wood from the floor. The couches that rested against the log walls held couples and readers. Most were occupied but one in particular wasn't touched. That couch was dark brown, while the others were ivory. The darker couch was my special couch, most people didn't like that one since it was shabby and old, but I refused to sit in any other. There was a cord of more white lights, allowing the vines of lilacs to glow, running along the border of the counter. Behind the counter, three large chalkboards displayed and announced the items that were available. Most of the writing was done by my aunt, since she had the better handwriting. We tried to draw some items on the boards but we failed.

Looking back at Bo, her eyes twinkled with the lights as she looked around. Her beautiful smile glowed with the light of the candles. I've never seen her as beautiful as I was a witness to this moment.

"Oh, this place is...beautiful", she answered. I felt my face grow warm as she looked around. "Is that Rob Pattinson's "Never Think" song from 'Twilight'?" She looked at me and smiled.

"Yeah, my cousin has a thing for him and the movie", I answered. "And this song is nice to go with the place. We usually play acoustic and blue music, which you probably don't like much…"

"I love acoustic music; it's one of my favorites", she answered. _'Wow, she has got to be the most perfect girl in the world. Man, all these four years that I have known her only by sight and name have been a waste of time. But now, I get to see the real her and be with her…'_

"Roger", someone called my name. I turned and saw my aunt coming from the kitchen door. I waved at her and saw her carrying a tray of fresh cookies. I mouthed at Bo, telling her to come with me and we both headed to the counter. There, my aunt rearranged the tray of the empty cookies to the full baked batch. She wiped her hands over her apron and smiled. "How good to see you, Roger; we missed you so much. It's not fair you can't come over and visit some time just to see you." She walked around the counter and embraced me in a hug. I was her only nephew since she only had one sister, my mom, so she sort of spoiled me. Bo was smiling the whole time, grasped her hands together in front of her. I hugged my aunt, breathing in the scent of fresh cookies and vanilla. I cleared my throat and released my aunt from my bear hug.

"Aunt Olivia, I'd like you to meet my friend, Bo Sullivan", I introduced her to Bo, placing a hand on my aunt's shoulder.

"Hello, nice to meet you", she greeted her and stretched her hand out. My aunt gently shook her hand.

"Hi there love, nice to meet you too, Bo. What a lovely name to fit an equally lovely girl. Let me guess, you like "Golden Sunrise", don't you?"

"Yes, of course, it's my favorite. How did you know?" she asked my aunt.

"We always get a group of girls who order drinks here and though they vary in drinks, one is always the same, "Golden Sunrise" and the name is always Bo", she replied. "Are you here to order something, Roger, or just here to pay your old auntie a visit?"

"Both, actually; Bo has never been inside this place so I figured I would show her around", I answered.

"Ah ah ah ah ah, don't tell me", she replied, placing one hand over her head, closing her eyes, and waved her other hand over the space in front of her. "You, my dear", she said in a shaky manner as if she was old and weary, "will order "Golden Sunrise" with extra fruit and a banana nut muffin. And you, my son, will order a "Phoenix Wing", easy on the ice with a strawberry strudel." My aunt opened her eyes and smiled. Bo looked astonished but nodded.

"You know me, Aunt Olivia", I answered. She headed back behind the counter and began the drinks.

**Bo**

"What was that all about?" I asked him, my hands stuffed in my pocket. He walked towards the darkest couch in the whole shop and I followed him and with his hand; he motioned me to sit down. He then sat next to me.

"It's a knack she has. She guesses what people want and if she gets it wrong, it's free. Most people who know her ability enjoy to see her guess and even if she gets it wrong, they put it in the tip jar", he explained. He rotated his body to face me, bending one knee and dangled his foot from the edge of the sofa. I simple rotated my body and my right leg pressed against the sofa, my foot lifted slightly a bit. Behind him, there was a guitar.

"Is that yours?" I asked him, nodding my head to the instrument resting on the wall. He picked it up and placed it over his lap. He readjusted himself and struck a couple of cords with his eyes closed. He began playing and even though the song didn't have words, it was still meaningful. His aunt walked up to us and handed our order.

"On the house", she whispered and smiled. I mouthed a thank you as she walked away silently to not disturb her nephew. When Roger finished playing, I smiled and gave him a few claps.

"That was beautiful" I answered watching him put his guitar away. His cheeks turned red and a smile appeared from his lips. "I've never heard anyone play the guitar that well."

"It's nothing…" he mumbled, lifting the drink to his lips. Looking down, I felt a weird sensation in my stomach. But whatever that feeling was, I liked it. We ate our lunch in silence, listening to the music that played over the intercom.


End file.
